Initials
by CeliaEquus
Summary: One of the side effects of a personality de-aging is doodling and writing in the margins of paperwork. After the Avengers are back to normal, Phil finds that Steve is still writing initials. But it's not what - or who - he thinks. Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this. How has no one done this story yet? Capsicoul.


"Initials"

Phil did a double-take the first time he saw their initials entwined. Of course, it wasn't actually _their_ initials; technically, SR + MC would have been more accurate, except that Steve had always called her Peggy, not Margaret. So SR + PC made more sense.

Even thought it kind of hurt. A lot.

It all started when someone hit the Avengers with a spell (or chemical; medical never determined its exact nature) that de-aged their personalities. Not their bodies or minds, thank God. Just their behaviour.

Unfortunately, while they still won the battle, they had to wait a fortnight for the effects to wear off; which meant that Phil was stuck baby-sitting a group of adolescents for at least two weeks. He didn't even like teenagers when he was one, and suddenly he was faced with looking after six damn superheroes – and heroine – with the mentality of fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds.

The main issue was that their hormone levels changed. He didn't need medical to tell him that. It wasn't obvious to everybody; but Phil, who had to read their handwritten reports as well as the electronic ones, felt like a high school teacher. There were doodles in the margins, even little scientific equations from Bruce and Tony, which were never there before. There were also the typical initials-plus-sign-initials, or initials-heart-initials. It was irritating, yet oddly endearing. And great material for blackmail or just general taunting, sometime in the future.

He'd never do that to Steve, though; the super soldier was too kind, and he was writing the initials of a woman with whom he had lost his once chance. That didn't deserve to be mocked.

After the effects of the spell disappeared, the Avengers still made the occasional note or drawing on the edges of their paperwork (probably just to annoy him). But every one of Steve's reports had the initials. The captain was too nice to torment Phil like this; it must have been unconsciously done. The next time it happened, he sent Steve a business card – with an appointment – for the SHIELD psychologist.

The notes stopped.

(He kind of missed them.)

* * *

"What did you do to Steve?" Natasha asked.

"Can I help you, Agent Romanov?"

"I'm serious," she said, and she planted her hands on his desk and leaned forward. "You. _Hurt_. Him."

"I don't recall—"

"Don't interrupt."

Phil hoped his raised eyebrow conveyed 'Pot, Kettle' effectively.

"If Captain Rogers has a problem, he can talk to me," Phil said.

"You see, that's the thing," she said. "He doesn't want to."

"…Oh." He flinched. "Well, if he doesn't want to talk to me, how do you expect me to resolve this?"

Natasha sniffed, and then sat down. "Maybe you should send him to another shrink?"

Phil glared at her. "What are you saying?"

"He's already seeing a therapist. Did you know that?"

"Of course; but he obviously needs more expert help to overcome his problem."

Natasha gaped at him. When the silence continued, he tried to get on with his work. She slammed her hand down on his, breaking the pen all over the files, desk, and the cuffs of his third-favourite shirt.

"Don't say it!" she hissed, pointing at him. "Just… don't say it. I don't know what _your _problem is, but Steve is insecure enough without you adding to his."

There were many things Phil could say to this; he just didn't know where – or how – to begin.

"As I said, if he has any issues, he can come to me."

"And if he thinks he can't?"

"Why would he…? You know what? Just tell him that I'm always free for him, in person or on the phone, and we can talk about this like adults. Okay?"

Natasha gave him a suspicious look; but then she left, and he felt free to breathe again.

* * *

After battle – a fierce one, where everyone had to check into medical, even Thor – Phil cornered Steve. The captain had sustained a broken arm, which was already healing, but he was waiting for the lacerations on his leg to knit together before trying to walk. The danger was over, so he had no other reason to leave before doctor's orders.

"Black Widow said that I've offended you in some way," Phil said.

"Sir?"

"Don't 'sir' me like that, Rogers. Tell me what I've done."

"You've been real kind to me. I can't ask for more than that."

"Yes, you can."

Steve's eyes widened as he looked up at Phil; then he looked down again, almost… disheartened.

"I tried," he said softly. "Guess I should've taken a different angle; but I get impatient sometimes."

"I don't understand."

"Maybe I should have tried to be your friend first."

"We can be friends, if you want." Phil felt shy when he said it, and wondered whether the others felt like this when they were temporary teens.

"Anything, anything. It's better than nothing, right? A-and you won't feel uncomfortable, will you?"

Phil hesitated. "I get the feeling we're at cross-purposes, and damned if I know how to untangle this. You want me to be your friend? Well, I'm honoured, Captain. You could have any friend you want, and most people like to avoid making friends with me, so it's a big thing."

"Uh-huh?" At least he seemed to be perking up.

"You said something about being impatient, and taking the wrong angle. What did you mean?"

"You…" Steve frowned. "You don't know? You didn't realise…? Oh, man."

"What is it? It's like everyone around here knows something I don't; and that's not a familiar feeling for me, Steve, so if you could just—"

"The letters!" Steve blurted out. "I kept drawing them after the spell because, well, I wanted them to come true."

Phil sighed. "We could get in touch with her if you want, but I thought you didn't want that. That's what your therapist said. When you kept drawing her initials, I thought your doctor got it wrong, which is why I gave you that referral… What?"

"Whose initials?"

"Peggy Carter."

Steve smiled, though it wavered. "Ah."

"What?" Phil felt like a parrot.

"I wasn't writing _her_ initials."

"Then whose…?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "We both got completely the wrong end of the stick. When you sent that card, telling me to see a _shrink_, I thought that you were rejecting me."

"Rejecting…" Phil sat suddenly, his words trailing off. "Me? Those were _my_ initials?"

"I would've thought you'd think that right away, seeing as how they _are_ your initials."

"I just didn't… I didn't think about." He shook his head. "Her name is more entwined with yours than mine is."

"Well, could we change that?" Steve asked, looking up at him through long eyelashes.

Okay, Phil kind of melted then.

Who could say not to eyes like that?

* * *

**Oh gods. I didn't know how to end this without going into my usual fluffy, sappy, happily-ever-after, neatly-tied-up kind of ending. But who wouldn't melt with Steve Rogers giving them that kind of look? So. Flipping. Endearing.**

**I wrote this while on work experience, whenever there was a lull. I think it should totally be considered significant that Peggy Carter and Phil Coulson have the same initials; or maybe that's just my shipper's mind. Who knows? It would certainly be a nice plot point in a much longer fic. I just didn't write that kind of fic. I really should come up with something longer for Steve and Phil in the way of a story. Hang on. My mistake. I have. Just haven't written all of it. Bad Gracie, bad Gracie…**

**So. What did you think?**


End file.
